


Inundation

by ivysea



Series: Dealing with Feelings [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 09:49:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20794676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivysea/pseuds/ivysea
Summary: Things couldn’t have been more different for them. Mickey’s heart sank at the memory of Ian calling him and waiting on him and wanting him. Things used to be so fucking good and he didn’t even realize. At some point, he just decided that Ian would be his forever. And at some point, Ian realized he deserved more than an angry Milkovich boy.This is Part 2! Read the first part before you read this.





	Inundation

**Author's Note:**

> Okay.... here we are. This part is in Mickey's perspective. I'm not sure about the switch but I think it gives a good view into Mickey's feelings. This one is sad again. Sorry guys

After prison, Mickey needed a change in his line of work. Petty theft and get rich schemes didn’t pass as “jobs” in the eyes of his parole officer. That was how he ended up hurling any ounce of pride he had left out the window and sliding an application across the counter at Patsy’s. He was practically begging Fiona to hire him. 

“Look, we’re not friends. But I went to fucking prison for you Gallaghers. Just let me wash dishes or some shit.” 

Fiona rolled her eyes, “Look, Mickey, I’ve got a lot on my plate right now. The last thing I need to worry about is my dish guy fucking up my brother’s life again.” 

“Won’t even look at him if he comes in.” Mickey says, eyes pleading but voice unwavering. 

“God. Fine. Lip’s been drinkin’ so we need the hands.” She said. “Can you start now? I’ll have Lip train ya on the basics before he leaves.” 

That was that. Mickey started working any shift Lip didn’t want, scrubbing dishes at all hours of the day and night. Most of his time was spent at Patsy’s. He would wash dishes and then sulk up to the counter and share a pot of coffee with Sierra. 

A couple weeks went by before Mickey cracked and called Ian again. It wasn’t like he wanted to be weak and pathetic, begging Gallagher for attention. But there he was, walking home from work and dialing the number he knew so well. Ian answered on the third ring, not speaking, just waiting for Mickey to say something. He wished Ian would talk, would tell him that he missed him and loved him, like he would’ve in the beginning. 

“Wanna go for a walk?” Mickey asked, grimacing at how pussy he sounded, begging his ex to go on a walk like middle school kids or something. 

“Told you not to call.” Ian snapped. 

“We should go to the dugouts. Remember when we used to fuck out there? Was so fuckin’ cold.” Mickey said, hoping Ian would understand the desperation in his voice. 

“I have a boyfriend.” Ian bit out, but Mickey could hear his jacket zip and the front door creek open through the phone. He couldn’t stop himself from grinning just a little. 

“See you soon Gallagher.” He hung up, rounding the corner to Ian’s street, eyes searching for the redhead in the moonlight. 

He caught sight of Ian from a few houses down, noting the way he paced back and forth angrily. Things couldn’t have been more different for them. Mickey’s heart sank at the memory of Ian calling him and waiting on him and wanting him. Things used to be so fucking good and he didn’t even realize. At some point, he just decided that Ian would be his forever. And at some point, Ian realized he deserved more than an angry Milkovich boy. 

Mickey pushed those thoughts aside. There was no point wasting what little time they had together being sad. He sped up a little, reaching Ian in a matter of seconds. 

“Hey Gallagher.” 

“Why’d you call me?” 

“Wanted to see you.” 

“You don’t get to see me anymore Mick. That’s not how this works.” Ian fumed, turning to face Mickey. 

“That’s not how what works?” He asked, feigning innocence and hoping to god Ian would just drop it. Mickey would’ve forgotten about it. He really would’ve. He didn’t need to ask why he couldn’t have Ian; he already knew. Ian had a boyfriend at home and Mickey was a fucking ex con living in a shitty apartment. 

“I’m not yours anymore Mick.” Ian said, walking again. 

“I know.” He could've argued then, egged Ian to be his. He didn’t. He knew far better than to push the limit any further. 

They walked together in silence, occasionally passing a shared cigarette between them. They were almost to the dugouts when Mickey finally realized why the situation felt so strangely familiar. Watching Ian was like he was watching himself from before. Ian avoided all contact, placing a solid foot of space between them. He didn’t look at Mickey, didn’t even ask about his day or his job or his family. Just like Mickey would’ve done when the roles were reversed. God, Mickey missed Ian. He was right there, and it felt like there was more space between them than there was when he was locked up. In prison, Mickey used to imagine being with Ian again, he did it more often than he would ever admit. He never imagined that it would be like this. Sneaky and crushing and sad. 

As they approached the darkened dugouts, finally shielded from the breeze and the light of the moon that seemed to illuminate Ian’s annoyance, Ian walked a little closer to him. Mickey could’ve sworn he felt Ian’s hand brush against his own before they separated again to climb the final chain link fence. 

Once they were settled, Ian turned to face him. “So, are we gonna fuck, or what?” 

Mickey grimaced, wishing things could’ve been gentler, but that’s not what he deserved. He deserved Ian’s anger and his annoyance and his cold shoulder. 

“Why else would I have called ya?” He snapped, trying to hide his hurt. 

“Beats me.” Ian shrugged, stripping off his shirt and undoing his belt. 

Mickey followed suit, stripping down to his boxers and reaching to pass Ian the lube he’d tucked away in his pocket. To his surprise, Ian shook his head and raised his hands. 

“Nah, Mick, I think you should prep yourself. I have a boyfriend after all.” The way he said it wasn’t sharp and cold this time, it was light and teasing. The way they used to be, the way Mickey liked it. 

“Fuck you, Gallagher.” He grumbled as he complied with Ian’s request. He never prepped himself. Ian had always loved to make sure he was ready, knew Mickey wouldn’t work himself open well enough. 

Ian moved closer and bent to kiss at his neck, groping at every inch of skin. Mickey wished he could freeze this moment, wished he could keep Ian wrapped around him forever. He must’ve started freezing up because Ian smoothed his hands down his sides. 

“Bein’ so good for me, Mick. Opening yourself up so I can fuck you.” He murmured into Mickey’s skin, causing him to shiver. God, he missed this. So much. 

“I’m ready” He breathed, moving to turn around and bend slightly, offering himself to Ian. 

“You know damn well you aren’t ready yet. I’ll take care of you, Mick.” Ian said, running a hand down Mickey’s back and working him open with two long fingers. Mickey moaned, pushing back, rocking onto Ian’s fingers. He could’ve came from that alone and he knew it. 

“Please. I’m ready. Gonna finish me off before I even get fucked, Gallagher.” He panted. He grinned as he heard Ian’s pants drop. 

Neither man could bite back their moans as Ian slid in. Mickey reached for Ian’s hand, anchoring them together as he tried to adjust as quickly as possible so not to break Ian’s focus. The red head draped himself over Mickey’s back, fucking into him slowly. 

“More. Ian. I need it.” Mickey moaned, grinding backwards. 

Ian squeezed his fingers and picked up his pace, disentangling their hands to grasp the back of Mickey’s neck to hold him in place. As the pace increased, Mickey could hear himself whimper and whine, begging Ian for more, more, more. Eventually, Ian’s pace stuttered again, and he spoke into Mickey’s ear. 

“Gonna flip you around baby. Wanna see you fall apart for me.” 

With that, Mickey was facing Ian, legs wrapped around his lean waist and hands scrabbling on his shoulders and back. Their eyes met. It was like for a moment, the world around him faded to nothing and all there was, was Ian. He was consuming and suffocating and perfect and everything Mickey could’ve wanted. 

His eyes must’ve given him away because Ian broke his stare, moving his eyes to wander down the pale column of Mickey’s neck, down his shoulders, and to his chest. Ian froze. Mickey knew he was looking at the tattoo, the one that marked him as Ian’s for life. A finger came up from his hips and traced the dark ink, eyes meeting Mickey’s again. 

All at once, it was too much. Ian’s thrusts were slow and deep, and he was so fucking full. And Ian’s eyes were staring into his soul and he couldn’t get a read on him at all. The fingers tracing the ink on his chest made his skin prickle and his heart race. He felt so much. Too much. 

He knew he was going to finish soon, riding the first waves of his release. He didn’t want to. If he finished, it would be over, Ian would leave, and they wouldn’t talk, and he would be alone again. Ian moaned, biting his shoulder and thrusting harder. 

“I’m gonna cum, baby. You gonna finish for me?” Ian murmured, looking at Mickey again, cheeks flushed, and pupils blown wide. 

“Not yet, Ian. Please, not yet. Wanna last a little longer, just a little more.” He babbled, pleading with Ian. 

Ian groaned, tightening his hold on Mickey. “I know, Mick. But we gotta head back soon, baby.” He sped his pace up again, snapping his hips up to Mickey’s ass quickly. He snaked a hand to jerk Mickey off at the same time and their moans echoed around them. For just a moment, Mickeys mind went blank, it was just him and Ian and bliss and sex and love and everything was perfect. 

After they both finished, Ian gathered their clothes and they dressed in silence. Eventually, Ian began to talk about work. He was so happy with his job, loved saving people and all that. Mickey was happy for him, glad he had found something to do with all that energy. He told Ian about Patsy’s, and his weird fucking neighbors. Ian smiled listlessly, staring off into the night. 

He told Ian about Sierra. He said they weren’t friends, but he didn’t mind her that much. Ian smiled more at that. He told Mickey how happy he was that he was branching out a little. Mickey just laughed and bumped their shoulders together. Things could be so easy between them if they would just try. Mickey wanted to tell Ian as much, beg him to give it another shot and leave his fuckhead boyfriend. 

Just as he turned to say something, Ian began to stand up. “Hey, it’s getting real late and I need my sleep these days.” He said, reaching a hand to Mickey to help him up. Mickey didn’t want things to be over yet. He wanted to stay together all night, and the next day and the one after that. 

“C’mon Mick. Get up.” His voice was getting agitated again, like it was on the way to the dugouts. It felt like he was shutting Mickey out again. It would all be over and Mickey would be left with nothing again. Mickey got up anyways. 

“Ian-” It escaped him before he could stop himself, sounding strangled. He wanted to drop it, to allow Ian to be cold and straight to the point, but he couldn’t. He shouldn’t have spoken, should’ve just taken what Ian was offering. 

“Yeah?” His voice was softer again. He was always so good at reading Mickey, knowing what he was thinking before he ever said it. Mickey wondered if he knew now. He wondered if Ian knew that he was wondering if this was a good idea, if he should just go home, if he should tell Ian how he felt and watch him walk away after because there was no way he could love someone like Mickey. 

His face must’ve given something away because the next second Ian’s hands were on his cheeks. They were so much closer now. Ian looked softer in this moment than he had before. He looked like he understood everything Mickey thought. He looked like he might feel it too. 

“Don’t say something you might regret. I can walk you home and make sure you get in bed okay.” Ian breathed, looking as though he meant it. Mickey’s thoughts were swimming. Did this mean Ian might still love him? Why did he think Mickey didn’t want this? He always wanted Ian. It wasn’t something he would turn down because he was feeling a little sadder than usual. 

“Fuck- Ian. I want this. I always want this. Always want you.” Mickey responded, staring at the redhead. 

Ian hung his head, bringing his hands to cover his face for a moment. He groaned loudly and shook his head before looking back to Mickey. 

“You can’t say that shit! My life can’t revolve around you anymore. I’m stable!” 

“I didn’t give you fucking bipolar Ian!” 

“But life with you didn’t give me the routine that I needed to stay sane, Mick!” Ian yelled back. And fine, that was fair. Mickey never gave Ian exactly what he needed. He should’ve, but he didn’t. And now he was losing him. 

“It can! Things can be different. I can be whatever you want!” Mickey yelled, voice thickening with emotion. He turned away sharply, staring out at the dark field. 

Ian reached out and touched his shoulder, turning him around again. “Hey,” He started. “Look at me.” 

Mickey glanced up again, meeting Ian’s eyes. 

“It’s not that I don’t want you. You’ll always be everything that I want. I don’t want you to change everything about yourself to win me back because I’m not a prize to be won. You’re turning your life around and I want that for you more than I want you to be with someone like me.” Ian started. 

“The fuck does that mean?” 

“I make you sad. I make you worried and irrational and upset when you don’t need to be. And besides all that, you were gone. And while you were gone the world kept fucking turning and I had to move on. My life is different now and I don’t know how to fit you back into it.” Ian finished. He was speaking so softly, as if he thought Mickey would shatter if he said the wrong thing. And to be fair, Mickey thought he really might. 

“Can you at least try?” Mickey asked, voice sounding foreign to his own ears. He was shaky, his hands, his voice, his legs, everything. 

“I don’t know” Ian said, reaching his hand to card his fingers through Mickey’s hair. It was things like that that Mickey missed the most. Yeah, the sex was great, and he missed talking too, but mostly he missed the little moments of softness that he got. No one ever offered him those moments. They were Ian’s to give and Mickey’s to take. 

“I wish you knew what it was like to live without me weighing you down Mickey. I know, I know, you love it and it’s what you want and all that bullshit. But really, I want you to grow and live and make friends and find who you are without me.” 

“I don’t want to.” It felt like Ian was leaving him. His words were soft and his hands on Mickey’s skin were so gentle, but his message was cruel. It was shattering Mickey and he didn’t know what to say to get Ian to see that he didn’t want anything at all if he didn’t have his Gallagher by his side. 

“Try it. For me.” Ian coaxed. 

“Why? So you can go home to your fucking boyfriend and forget all about me without feeling shitty about yourself?” Mickey asked, anger building in him and overtaking his hurt for a moment. 

“Not what I meant!” Ian yelled back. 

“Fuck off Gallagher.” Mickey growled, pushing Ian away from him. 

“Mick...” 

“Just go home! Leave me here like you left me in fucking prison! Just walk away Ian, seems like that’s what you do best these days.” Mickey snapped, backing away further, creating a wider gap between their bodies. 

Ian opened his mouth to yell back, but he stopped. Without saying a word, he turned away and started walking. He was leaving. Just like that, they were done again. Mickey’s heart crumbled. He wished they could just talk without fighting, without hurting each other. He never wanted to hurt Ian. 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay okay okay. Don't worry there is a third part coming to wrap things up and make it better. I thought this was the end and then the sad spun out of control and all of the sudden Ian was leaving again. 
> 
> Kudos/ comments always welcome :)


End file.
